Paddling the Wind River, Yukon Territory, 2022

Author: Mike Stacey
Photos: Terry Hartrick and Mike Stacey

What makes two pensioners from southern Canada paddle 300 km down a remote Yukon river? Is it really worth the risk, expense and effort?(Spoiler alert … yup!)

Why wilderness canoe travel? One hopes for physical fitness, mental alertness and spiritual but there are other motivations. Canadians have long “traversed the landscape”¹, beginning with Indigenous peoples finding sustenance and shelter. Newcomers have followed, seeking wealth, souls and refuge from turmoil. And now us, the outdoors enthusiasts, trying to connect with nature and to learn about those who have paddled here before.

In August of 2022, Terry Hartrick and I flew from Victoria, BC, to Whitehorse, YT. A shuttle van drove us for five hours to Mayo; a Beaver float plane took us 180 km further north to our put-in and the start of a 15-day self-guided canoe trip down the Wind and (a portion of the) Peel Rivers. This was to be our longest , furthest north and first ever fly-in expedition, through traditional territories of the Na-Cho Nyak Dun and Tetlit Gwich’in First Nations. These lands fall within the Peel Watershed Regional Land Use Plan, covering over 67,000 km², agreed to in 2019 by Yukon First Nations and the Government of Yukon, which recognized “the region’s rugged, unpopulated wilderness character.” Travel here calls for respect for the landscape, to retain its value for future generations.

I have long been intrigued by the relationship that people who spend their lives outdoors have with the land. Would travel through unfiltered nature – smelling the trees, feeling rock and soil underfoot and being rocked by the water – spark some insights? I hoped that two weeks on these rivers would provide a glimpse at what it means to live close to nature.

Canoe tripping can be restorative. We accept and adapt to the river’s rhythm. Some thrill to navigating turbulent white water; others savour a slow-motion bobsleigh ride that encourages contemplation and mindfulness of one’s surroundings. Looking back, maintaining awareness of the river’s grade, power and changing currents became, if not quite second nature, a reasonable balance of tension and tranquility. I aimed for, and occasionally achieved, mental composure and a fluid, responsive physical connection with my boat. Both objectives were tested when the river threw up sudden obstacles!

The Wind River water was wonderfully clear. Scoop up a litre from the river, treat it with a Katadyn pill, and enjoy. Once we reached the Peel, however, the water became murkier, with fine sediments suspended in it. Employing a gravity filter system prior to using the pills worked well.

Despite several rain storms in the mountains upstream the river level did not fluctuate noticeably. There is little vegetation on the watershed’s higher mountains to slow down the flow of rainwater into the rivers, causing concern that campsites might be flooded. We watched the river closely in case it rose suddenly, marking evening levels with a bright red ribbon.

We saw some other parties on the river: including intrepid German tourists and a guided group from Canada. We had occasion to assist some of them and were helped out in turn by others – spare gear and food donated to those who had lost kit in a capsize; timely advice received from others with expertise and experience. It was great fun to photograph the dramatic vistas and experiment with Terry’s drone kit. With things going well, the world felt to me like a large, round lifeboat, its occupants reliant on each other, spinning alone through space. We felt like part of a complex, awesome environment.

That said, the risks and rigours of wild river travel are real, especially for paddlers who are well north of 60. Varying “discharge rates” generate anything from a gentle slalom run up to a difficult series of twists and turns where effort and skill are needed to maintain control. Obstacles can appear suddenly, making decision-making more urgent. A landing might require a tricky exit from a “pushy” main current to find safe access to shore. Choosing the wrong “braid” could lead down a narrow, steep and twisting channel with “sweeper” trees protruding from freshly undercut banks – being pinned against one could be big trouble! I’ll admit to some trepidation when first planning the trip. In the end, our only reportable encounter was when I veered too close to a sweeper, resulting in the loss of a paddle and some of my dignity.

We tried to mitigate the risks through preparation and obtaining good equipment. Our first canoe expeditions were on slower moving, well-travelled rivers. Terry is an ex-physician with extensive Pacific coast kayaking experience. I had been a mariner (commercial fisher). Both of us have backcountry camping experience, and these backgrounds provided useful skills and knowledge.

Recent advances in outdoor equipment technology have helped. A carbon fibre paddle may not be “authentic” but its light weight was much appreciated during long paddling days! Given the Yukon’s legendary mosquitoes, our bug shelter became a favourite piece of kit. We countered weather extremes with Merino wool, down, Gore-Tex and our wonderful dry suits. Our canoes had spray decks and floatation bags. Turbulent water was often managed by finding a path around it or by lining the boats along the shores. In the steep sided Peel Canyon, we crossed an unavoidable 2 ft high wave train without any drama, the spray decks preventing the boats from taking on water.

I would not have done this trip without having the ability to call for help provided by our inReach satellite transceivers. We could also have used them to contact each other had we become separated and to exchange messages with the float plane company. The inReach enabled folks at home to watch our progress on the internet – in real time! We received updates via inReach on river levels and discharge rates, courtesy of a shore contact who regularly checked an internet-connected current monitoring station.

Before undertaking our trip we knew that we needed to improve our “moving water” canoe skills to paddle the Wind River safely (whitewater up to Class II). We took all the canoe courses available at our local paddling club, and a moving-water rescue course. We also carefully read trip journals from previous Wind paddlers. On the river, our practice was to always keep in sight of each other and to stay within shouting distance in tricky situations –we thought we formed a small but capable team! Decades ago, we might have relied more on youthful stamina. Now, we prioritized excellent gear and thorough preparation – all part of adventuring during life’s third act.

Anyone contemplating wilderness river travel should consider joining a guided group. The guide finds a safe route matched to clients’ skills. Following a guide boat gives clients more time and energy to scan the shores and mountainsides for game, instead of focusing on spotting hazards and choosing a line. Critically, the guide prevents avoidable emergencies and deals professionally with those that do occur. In camp, the guided option generally gives clients more time for hiking, fishing, taking pictures, or just “being there”, instead of digging latrines, doing kitchen chores, starting fires, monitoring river levels, etc.

Of course, some people enjoy tackling the logistical and navigational tasks typically handled by guides, seeing them as integral to wilderness travel. And there may be cost savings by going “self-guided”. However, one needs to feel confident about the groups’ skills and their knowledge about a given river to go without the security and expert interpretation provided by guides.

Wilderness river canoeing requires a “live in the moment” awareness. Whether planning the next day’s activities or choosing your line for the next 30 seconds around a turbulent corner, it’s the natural environment that determines your options. For many, even though it comes with challenges along with the rewards, this experience is a welcome change from their daily concerns at home.

Will there be a next river adventure? There are a few moving parts to consider: health and stamina, wallet thickness, spouse and family support, etc. That said, there is this one river that I’ve heard about …

1^ Ken Wylie, outdoors safety expert, on Canadians’ affinity for the outback. CBC Radio, Mar 07, 2023 – TBC.